


A Scandalous Proposal

by ala



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:05:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ala/pseuds/ala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know this isn't quite what you asked for but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.  Merry Sifmas!</p></blockquote>





	A Scandalous Proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lizardbeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/gifts).



He led her out onto the dance floor, every bit the noble gentleman. Sif grimaced when the music began; it was a waltz. It would mean that she would have to talk to or at least look at Loki for the duration of the set, and she did not want to speak with him, not yet. It also meant that he would be holding her, and she didn’t know if she was ever ready for that again.

“Have I told you how lovely you look tonight, Sif?” he asked as they danced “You do.”

“Thank you,” she murmured in reply, pointedly staring at his ear.

“Have you given any thought to my proposition?”

Had she thought of anything else since they had spoken the day before? He had asked her to _marry_ him for heaven’s sake. It had hardly been the proposal she had once imagined, but with her father’s cousin coming to take possession of Vanaheim in mere weeks she knew her choices boiled down to marry or seek work as a governess. The latter was unlikely as no wife would want a governess as lively and pretty as Sif in the same house as her husband; Sif recognized that she was reasonably attractive. The question then became one of who she would marry. Her only options were Mr. Wilkins, who was always overly obsequious and rarely tried to hide it when he looked down her dress (not that he really could hide it considering he was two inches shorter than she) or Loki.

“Yes,” she responded, hoping to delay the inevitable just a bit longer, “but I don’t want to talk about it here.”

“Fair enough. When the set is over, wait ten minutes, make some excuse and go to the music room. I’ll follow after another ten minutes.”

Sif jerked her eyes up to his. “You want to talk about it _now_ , at your mother’s birthday ball?” she asked rather incredulously.

“But of course,” he smirked down at her, “there are plenty of eligible heiresses here tonight. If I need to look elsewhere there is no better time to start. Miss Pritchard, for example.” Sif knew the girl in question; she was a petite blonde thing who couldn’t have been more than seventeen.

It was a good thing that the set came to a close as Sif was suddenly struck by the urge to slap him.

“Remember: the music room, ten minutes,” he murmured in her ear as he brought her back to where her mother and Jane were sitting.

It was easy to claim fatigue and make her way towards the ladies’ retiring room, then leave through the servant’s door. The many hours she and Thor and Loki had spent playing hide-and-seek in the sprawling country house had come in more useful than she would have thought.

The music room was empty, lit only by a single sconce. She lit more candles and sat down at Frigga’s new piano, lifting the fallboard to admire the keys. It truly was a glorious instrument, case intricately painted with pastoral scenes and with the loveliest sound she had ever heard. Although she knew Frigga had begun teaching Sif the piano as an excuse for her to visit Asgard every day and play with the boys and share in their lessons, through many hours of practice Sif too had grown to love it.

She didn’t dare do  much more than admire; if someone heard and came to investigate and found her all alone waiting for someone—or worse, actually _with_ Loki, there wouldn’t be any question of not marrying him. Her reputation was all she had now. Without it she would be quite literally ruined.

The door opened with a creak, causing her to start and slam the fallboard down.

“Quiet! Do you want everyone to come running?” Loki hissed. Sif glared at him and took a seat on a nearby loveseat. Rather than sit across from her, as was proper, he sat next to her, so close that she felt the warmth of his thigh on hers. It reminded her of their kiss by the great elm the day before, and even farther back, to that memorable day in the pavilion years before…

She moved back a few inches. He raised a sardonic brow and took her hand.

“So Sif, are we to be married?” She would swear those intense blue eyes could see right into her head.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She truly didn’t. She had never been so lost before in her life.

“It’s not like you to not know your own mind, Sif.”

“Pardon me for not being so flippant about the largest decision of my life,” she snapped, then took a deep calming breath. “Tell me again why?” she asked, hating the slightly pleading note in her voice. She was Sif Van, only daughter of Sir Tyr Van; she didn’t plead for anything.

“Well you need to marry because your father left you near penniless and his cousin is coming to evict you from the entailed estate and you have nowhere else to go.”

Sif failed to control the impulse to scowl. “I _know_ that. Why do _you_ want to marry _me_?” Especially now when he had had the opportunity years before and had practically jilted her without an explanation?

It was his turn to scowl and sneer. “People change, Sif. They have different circumstances; they find that the person they really wanted to marry is happily married elsewhere with a child on the way...”

Sif shot to her feet. The _gall_ of him. Sometimes she thought she saw the boy that used to sneak her books and play pranks and who taught her to fence in secret after her father had expressly forbidden it; she didn’t know where this crueler, colder Loki came from. She missed that boy so very much.

He grabbed her arm. “No, no, I’m sorry, that was rude and unnecessary. Please, Sif, forgive me. In the stress of returning home again I seem to have lost my manners somewhere. Please, sit.”

Now there was a hint of the Loki she once knew. He gave a gentle tug on her arm and she sank back down again.

“As I told you, my father has agreed to settle several of his unentailed estates on me on the condition that I marry first. If I were to go back to Cambridge and woo some woman it would be at least a year we could marry. With your current situation no one would find it odd if we accelerated the timetable significantly.”

“So it’s only because I’m convenient?”

“Well,” his lips quirked up in half a smile, “that is the defining characteristic of a marriage of convenience, yes.”

She couldn’t help but smile wryly in return.

“I promise you will be well looked after, Sif. You will have an allowance and jointure, and have free rein to do whatever it is you wish, be it playing the piano all day or wearing breeches and picking swordfights with unsuspecting neighbors.”

He didn’t mention love, but that was for children, wasn’t it? She looked down at her hands in order to avoid his eyes. When she looked up again she almost started. When had he got so close?

“Besides, Sif, it’s not like we don’t get along in other ways, right?” He was talking about the kiss by the elm, wasn’t he? And the day at the pavilion when they had given in to youthful passion. A hot flush crept up her body that had nothing to do with embarrassment, and her chest felt tight as her breathing grew quicker.

“We did have good times once, didn’t we Sif? We could have them again.”

His lips were so close so could feel his breath on hers.  

“So tell me, Sif, will marry me? Yes or no?” he murmured against her mouth. One hand rested low on her back; the other reached up to cradle her neck.

“Yes,” she whispered before his mouth claimed hers and she was lost to the sensation of his tongue on hers.

Dimly she could hear the creak of the door opening, but it wasn’t until she heard loud gasp of surprise that they broke apart. Standing in the doorway was her mother, his mother, and Lady Wyndham, quite possibly the biggest gossip in two counties, and all three had just witnessed she and Loki with their tongues in each other’s mouth. She quickly stood and tried to put as much distance between her and Loki as the room allowed.

“For shame, Miss Van!” Lady Wyndham cried loudly before anyone else could speak. “Kissing a man alone in here during his mother’s birthday party? I always knew you were a hussy!”

Loki, who had remained sitting, rose to his feet slowly and pulled down his waistcoat casually. “I would watch what you say, Lady Wyndham, for that is my affianced wife to whom you are talking.” He walked over to Sif and placed her hand in the crook of his arm.

“Mother, Lady Van,” he addressed the dowagers, “please allow me to let you be the first to know that Miss Van, Sif, has just consented to be my wife. I apologize for sneaking her away like this. I just couldn’t wait to ask her and a marriage proposal should be something done in private, yes?”

“Why of course,” said Lady Van brightly, and gave a laugh too high pitched to be completely genuine. “When you asked to speak with her in private I assumed that you’d wait until tomorrow! Ah to be in the throes of young love again.” No one pointed out that Sif and Loki weren’t exactly young, or that there had been any indication recently that they were in love. Then again, no one believed that Loki had already spoken with his fiancée’s mother.

“Really?” Lady Wyndham’s beady eyes narrowed in on Lady Van. “You knew of this Svana?”

“Oh this is such a wonderful birthday present! Even better than the piano!” Frigga exclaimed before Lady Van could reply. She clapped her hands together and went to hug first Sif and then Loki. Sif took it as an opportunity to disentangle her arm from Loki’s. “I am so happy to welcome you into the family as a daughter, Sif!” She shot a look at her son that Sif knew to mean “we will talk later and you better have a good explanation.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased Mother,” Loki replied, putting Sif’s hand back on his arm, the arch of his eyebrow signaling that he understood his mother’s message clearly. Frigga turned around and ushered the ladies Van and Wyndham out of the room. She looked over her shoulder and wordlessly told Sif and Loki that they were expected to follow closely.

“Come, let us go back to the ballroom,” carried back into the music room. “We shall have to tell my husband the wonderful news, and oh, I have a wedding to plan! You know I didn’t get to plan one for Jane and Thor. What do you think of pink roses for the bouquet Petunia?”

Loki looked down at Sif and gave a small smile. “Well it’s a good thing you had already said yes, Sif, I do not want to force you into anything you did not want. Shall we go back?”

Sif had remained silent through the entire scene, actually biting down on her tongue to keep from exploding. As they walked back to the ballroom she held herself stiffly, nearly shaking with rage. He’d tricked her. She thought she could trust him again but obviously that was unfounded. He had known! How else did he remain so cool when their mothers had come in? Had he suggested to his mother that this would be the perfect time to show her guests her new piano? Is that why he told her to wait in the music room? Had he been so afraid she would refuse him that he had set up a trap to force her to say yes?

Loki said something to her but she could not comprehend it in her rage. If he thought he could trick her he was wrong. She was _never_ going to marry Loki Aesir.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know this isn't quite what you asked for but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Merry Sifmas!


End file.
